


No

by Little Spoon (JaydenNara)



Series: Occasionally Domestic [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Clothing Kink, College Student Stiles, DJ derek, Established Relationship, M/M, Protective Derek, Scent Marking, Sharing Clothes, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles Stilinski's Name is Mieczysław, Wolf Instincts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 21:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10975815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaydenNara/pseuds/Little%20Spoon
Summary: Stiles hates his name. The only person who ever uses it is Derek, and Stiles isn't all that opposed to hearing it when it rolls so very nicely off Derek's tongue and makes all his naughty bits tingle. But really, his name is just more trouble than it's worth.





	No

The thud of the bass rattled Stiles’ bones as he approached the sketchy club. He’d taken a cab from his and Derek’s apartment as instructed because Derek hadn’t wanted him wandering around the city so late at night by himself, and Stiles actually agreed. New York was nothing like Beacon Hills.

Sure, there was chaos, murder, and mayhem, but of a completely different nature. The supernatural, Stiles could handle, but human...

His third week in the city, Stiles had been mugged. Derek had been furious with him.

It wasn’t a fair representation of the city. New York was great, and so were the people. The city was surprisingly high on the list of safe major cities as opposed to how it was portrayed in the media and Hollywood, but Stiles had been so used to knowing what goes bump in the night, that he had completely forgotten humans could be just a vicious and cruel as any supposed mythical creature.

So, Stiles now cabbed everywhere he went, usually. Of course, the next time he’d ignored Derek’s mild request to take cabs or wait for Derek to pick him up, Stiles was kidnapped by a grief-stricken, slighted werewolf hell bent on revenge against Laura Hale.

Stiles shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his red straight cut jeans that he wore with one of Derek’s sweaters. Not a club outfit, but Stiles wasn’t at the club to party. He was there to listen to Derek DJ his first gig, or whatever it was called. He bypassed the growing line and walked straight up to the big burly bouncer dude holding a clipboard.

“Sup, dude,” Stiles said. He flashed a grin of false confidence as he rocked forward on the balls of his feet. “I’m on the guest list. Stiles Stilinski.”

The bouncer eyed him and snorted before he consulted the clipboard. “Sure. ID,” he said.

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Stiles fumbled for his wallet, nearly dropping his license when he pulled it out. It was brand new and still glossy. His license had expired a few months ago, and he’d had to renew it in New York. “Here ya go. I’m totally underage. Not trying to sneak in to drink. Just here for the music.”

The bouncer checked his ID, eyes darting between Stiles and his grinning picture, then back down to the guest list. “Sorry, kid. Can’t let you in.”

“What? Dude, Derek totally checked with management to make sure I could get in tonight,” Stiles said. He’d made Derek triple check, and gotten growled at for his overzealous efforts.

The club carded, and anyone underage didn’t get a wristband. No wristband, no alcohol. Which was fine. Stiles could drink at home if he really wanted. Derek would buy him booze, sometimes. But he hadn’t wanted to miss Derek’s first set, even if he was just the opening act.

Derek seemed to have found his calling in music. Stiles didn’t get it, but he loved the tracks Derek made, and he wanted to support his boyfriend in his new hobby because Derek needed something to do or he’d drive Stiles loony.

For the first seven months they’d lived in the city, Derek had literally nothing to do beyond bum around the apartment and follow Stiles to the library or coffee shop. He’d even patiently waited for Stiles after work to walk him home, even if he was off at 2 AM, which happened a lot and Stiles appreciated it. Really, he did. No one bugged him walking down the street at 2 AM with Mr. Grumpy-brows acting as his shadow and bodyguard.

“Name doesn’t match the guest list,” the bouncer said, and two girls further down the line snickered behind their hands as he handed Stiles back his ID. “You want in. Get in line.”

“Oh my god. Of course it doesn’t match! Would you go by this monstrosity,” Stiles exclaimed. He waved his ID in the bouncer’s face. “You’re seriously not going to let me in because Derek gave you my nickname instead of my legal name? Are you fucking serious right now?”

Apparently, Stiles wasn’t worth the bouncer’s time because he had already turned to the next person in line, and waved them in.

Huffing, Stiles paced the four-foot patch of sidewalk in front of the club while he called Derek. “Come on. Come on. Pick up you bastard,” Stiles muttered as the phone rang.

“Derek.” BEEP

“Are you kidding me? You still have that stupid voicemail message? Come one, man. We talked about this. And pick up your goddamn phone, you fucking asshole!” Stiles ranted and kicked an empty McDonald’s fry sleeve down the street. “Fuck, I didn’t mean that. I mean, you are an asshole, but shit. Just, sorry.”

Stiles stopped pacing when he hung up and stared at the front of the club. Half of the humming neon blue sign was out, making the club name illegible. This wasn’t the best part of town to be standing alone on the curb, even if a jerk bouncer and a line of people stood a few feet away.

It was six minutes to 9, meaning he had six minutes before Derek took the stage, and Stiles was trapped outside while his boyfriend DJ’d his first show.

“Shit,” Stiles said. He rigorously scrubbed his hands through his hair and growled. A human growl, but still impressive, or so he liked to think. Derek found it sexy when Stiles got a little animalistic and wild, little quirks he’d picked up from running with wolves.

Stiles inhaled deeply through his nose and squared his shoulders, back popping a little as he realigned his spine.

“DEREK!” Stiles screamed at the top of his lungs, voice cracking as his voice reverberated down the street.

The chatter down the line fell silent, punctuated by the thump of the bass from the club, as all eyes turned to stare at him in varying states of shock and awe. A few looks of mild concern. The bouncer did not look happy.

“Oh my god. What is your deal,” one of the girls said. They were now at the front of the line to get into the club. “Are you brain damaged? You know he can’t like, hear you, right?”

Stiles snorted, unable to stop a slow grin from taking over. “You sure about that?”

The club door slammed open. Derek Hale, in all his grumpy glory, stormed out of the club ready to tear someone apart when he stopped short of the velvet rope between Stiles and the club. Stiles felt a little guilty for playing with Derek’s protective instincts, but there was no fucking way he was missing Derek’s show.

Derek crossed his arms over his chest, muscles threatening to pop the seams of his blue v-neck that matched the colour of his real eyes, and Stiles whined softly in the back of his throat. His boyfriend was fucking gorgeous, even when he tried to glare Stiles into submission and ground his teeth in irritation.

“H-hey, Derek,” Stiles stuttered with a shy wave when Derek’s nostrils flared.

“Is that my sweater?” Derek grunted. Hungry eyes raked down Stiles’ body.

“Yup.” Stiles hugged himself and grinned. The sweater was a little big on him. It fit Derek snugly, but Stiles could in no way compete with his drool-worthy physique. “Nice and cozy. Still smells like you...”

Derek’s nostrils flared again and his pupils dilated. Stiles shivered in anticipation of what would come later that night. Hopefully, Derek wouldn’t rip the shirt off him because he liked how soft and snuggly the material was. Derek had the best taste in clothes, but he also had a thing for Stiles in them.

“Is there a reason you’re screaming my name like a complete moron,” Derek said, suddenly aware they weren’t alone. His eyes darted to their captive audience in the growing line.

Stiles’ smirk grew. “Normally you like when I scream your-”

“Stiles,” Derek growled, the sound verging on inhuman.

“Yeah, okay. This idiot,” Stiles said, gesturing to the annoyed bouncer at the door. “Won’t let me in.”

Derek turned the full force of his glare on the unsuspecting bouncer. After years on the receiving end of it, Stiles had gained immunity, but the bouncer wisely took a step back, despite having a good thirty pounds and four inches on the ticked off werewolf.

“Name doesn’t match,” the bouncer defended.

Derek ripped the clipboard out of the bouncer’s hands with a snarl, and scribbled what Stiles could only assume was his ridiculous legal name - that only Derek ever used - on the clipboard before he shoved it back into the bouncer’s chest, knocking the wind out of the poor dude.

“There,” Derek growled, already unclipping the rope for Stiles. “It matches.”

Stiles skipped forward, throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s neck so he could plant a wet sloppy kiss on Derek’s scruffy cheek. The stubble tickled his lips, but he didn’t care, playing up the cute by nuzzling into Derek’s shoulder and sighing. His boyfriend’s arms instinctively encircled his waist and pulled his into a protective hug, glaring over Stiles’ shoulder at anyone who might dare to speak.

“Awww... thanks, sourwolf,” Stiles said, and the tips of Derek’s ears turned pink as the embarrassed werewolf flushed. “You’re too cute. Come on. You need to go play your set so you can rip my clothes off later.”

“I hate you,” Derek muttered, but ushered Stiles into the club with a warm hand on the small of Stiles’ back.

“Lies,” Stiles faux gasped, and Derek rolled his eyes and huffed. Stiles laughed and sent Derek off with a smack on the ass. “Now go drop a sick beat and make my naughty bits all tingly.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can stalk me on Tumblr here: [Always the Little Spoon](http://always-the-little-spoon.tumblr.com/)


End file.
